


February (sometimes you have to look back to move forward)

by kdyelo



Series: Secrets exposed [4]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Divorced Daniel, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, M/M, Some past angst crept in after all, lawrusso
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdyelo/pseuds/kdyelo
Summary: It's almost Valentine’s day, and our karate fiancés  start to figure out their wedding plans. Daniel reaches out to Carmen to rekindle their friendship; Johnny and Daniel have an exciting night out... and Johnny and Amanda figure out some things for themselves.This story pulls in a lot of elements from previous stories in the series, especially from Secret History and the end of Death and Rebirth. The full series is a canon-divergent story based on the Karate Kid series of movies, but set in the (near-)present day.
Relationships: Amanda LaRusso/Anoush Norouzi, Amanda LaRusso/Daniel LaRusso (past relationship), Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Series: Secrets exposed [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058060
Comments: 65
Kudos: 71





	1. Friendship

**Sunday, January 14**

Carmen: hey, checking on u my friend  
Carmen: worried after yesterday  
Daniel: hi Carmen, thank you, things are better  
Daniel: we’re working it out :)  
Carmen: im happy for u, yaya too, haha  
Daniel: but enough about me, we should talk about you  
Daniel: lunch soon?  
Carmen: crazy schedule this week, lets talk next wknd  
Daniel: ok, tell Miguel I said hi

**Sunday, January 21**

Carmen: hey there, want to get a drink? have night off FINALLY

**Tuesday, January 23**

Carmen: hope ur ok?

**Thursday, January 25**

Daniel: hi Carmen, I’m sorry I didnt reply  
Daniel: had an incident at the bar  
Carmen: are u ok? what happened?  
Daniel: I’m ok, I’ll tell you about it soon

**Friday, February 2**

Daniel: hi Carmen, finally getting back to work  
Daniel: kids have the big tournament Feb 10. I have an appointment at Northridge the Monday after. Will you be around? Want to hear how you and Miguel are doing  
Carmen: u have an appointment here? u better fill me in  
Carmen: I’m off that day, let’s get a drink then. 5?  
Daniel: sounds good. El Pollo?  
Carmen: ok see u then  
Carmen: u have explaining to do my friend

**Saturday, February 10**

Daniel: [photo of Aisha holding a trophy]  
Daniel: we won! Still on for Monday?  
Carmen: congrats! yes, see u at 5

**Monday, February 12**

Daniel walked the three blocks from the Northridge medical center to El Pollo after his second appointment, thankful for the cool, dry afternoon weather. It felt great to be outside stretching his legs, even in the suburban strip mall hell that Reseda and Northridge have become - and, since he hasn’t been cleared to drive yet, his only alternative would be a very short rideshare. He arrived early, at about 4:30pm, so he settled into a corner booth for the thirty-minute wait, his back to the wall and facing the door, and started a tab with the waitress. He also texted Johnny:

> LaRusso: hey, appointments went fine, waiting for Carmen. See you around 6 or 6:30?  
> Johnny: ok, text u when i leave work <3

El Pollo is casual Tex-Mex, trendy and cheerful, and convenient to the hospital and the South Seas apartments where Carmen lives - and where he lived for nine years, until just a couple of months ago when he moved in with Johnny. While he waited for Carmen to arrive, he scrolled through his newsfeed, then he stripped the paper ring that holds his napkin around his silverware and folded it into a tiny paper crane. Then he peeled the wrapper from his straw, first rolling it into a tight little cylinder, then flattening it out again and folding it into a tiny square, which he then reconfigured into a triangle before picking up his phone again to scroll further down his newsfeed. Thus occupied, he passed the minutes until he spotted Carmen’s car pulling into the parking lot.

It had been a month since he last saw Carmen and Miguel; before that, it had been several weeks, back before he’d moved out at the end of November. So much has happened - to him, it feels like half a lifetime has passed in that two and a half months.

When Carmen pushed through the restaurant door, he waved in greeting; spotting him, she grinned and walked briskly his way, her arms already open for a friendly embrace. In her high heels, she’s as tall as he is, wearing her dark, curly hair in a practical ponytail and smiling at him with a mixture of pleasure and concern. 

“Carmen,” he grinned. “It feels like it’s been months. How are you?”

She released him and pushed him back a pace, looking him over head to toe, her eyes catching briefly at his neck before meeting his eyes. “I should ask you that question,” she prompted firmly. “First, you’re apartment-shopping. Then you drop off the face of the earth. What was this incident at the bar?”

“Jumping right into the interrogation,” he teased as he waved the waitress over. “Here, sit down, let’s order margaritas and guacamole at least.”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “So I’ll tell you about Miguel, he just turned sixteen and he’s driving me _crazy_ about getting his driver’s license. Every day, he and mama ask me when he can take his driver’s test. I can’t believe he’s already a sophomore in high school. It seems like only yesterday he was a baby.” There’s a note of pride in her voice - and deservedly so. She’s raised a good kid.

“Better keep an eye on him, that kid’s going to have girls lining up at the door,” he warned as the waitress deposits their margaritas.

Carmen rolled her dark eyes, but she’s also smirking when she takes the first sip through the salted rim of her glass. “If I can just get him through high school and into college, I’ll call that a win. I don’t even want to think about girls!”

He raised his own glass before taking a drink. “He’ll be fine, he has a good head on his shoulders.”

“Very kind. And now, we have our drinks. Spill it.”

He sighed. “Carmen, I never knew where you worked, at the hospital. I don’t think I ever asked about your job. I don’t know much about the medical field.”

“Are you changing the subject?”

“Actually I’m not,” he said, voice wry. “I spent a week at Northridge after the incident, first in trauma, then in ICU. It occurred to me I had no idea where you worked, or if you were going to walk right into the room one morning.”

“I’m a pediatric nurse, I work in a different building of the same complex you were in. What was this incident?” she demanded.

“I was attacked at the bar, that weekend we were going to have drinks. I’m fine. I was released two weeks ago, and my checkup today was all clear.”

“Attacked.” She glanced again at the visible scar at his neck. “How?”

“I was removing someone from the bar, and he pulled a knife. Here, and here.” He self-consciously touched his neck and the right side of his chest, his fingers unerringly able to find the sites. “It was on the news. I’m glad Miggie didn’t see it.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me about this? Didn’t want to worry us? What the hell? You don’t get an ICU bed for a scratch!”

He stared down at the salt rim on his glass, his face hot. “There was a lot going on,” he finally said. “It’s been a tough few weeks, and going back to work where it happened has been hard. I put Johnny and my mother through a lot. I didn’t want to worry you and Miggie too.”

When he looked up from his glass, the disappointment was written clearly in her expression. “Daniel,” she said more softly, “that’s what friendship is about. We help each other through bad times, and we celebrate the good times. I may have been able to help. Didn’t I say you were getting too old for all that?”

“Too old? Thanks for that.” He lookeed at her seriously. “Maybe I should have told you. Carmen, I’m sorry. They did take good care of me over there. And I do have good news to share.” He raises an eyebrow cheekily at her at the same time he raises his glass - with his left hand.

Entertainingly, her eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?”

He grinned. "Yeah, we're engaged.” He set down his glass to show her the slender titanium ring, its single diamond integrated flush with the band, feeling both proud and a little silly, especially when he remembers how Amanda would do the same thing with her ring many years ago. He'd been the one to propose very traditionally, on bended knee, even asking her father for his blessing beforehand.

Her smile grew. “It’s beautiful. How does that work, anyway? He proposes so you wear the ring?”

He laughed. “He did propose - that’s its own story, it took him a while to actually ask the question - and we both decided to wear rings. We’re not sure if there’s a ‘right’ way to do this, we’re making it up as we go along.” Is this Carmen’s way of asking if he’s the wife in this scenario? He hadn’t really thought about that until now, that people might wonder about that; he and Johnny don’t neatly fit into any stereotypical gender role in their relationship... maybe no one does.

He discarded that chain of thought just as Carmen asked, “When’s the big event?”

“No idea! We haven’t thought that far ahead… we're still getting used to being fiancés."

"Oh, you should do something romantic.” Her voice softened, eyes distant. "A beach wedding, or a weekend in wine country. Or maybe you should elope to Hawaii!"

"I need to keep you and Johnny apart, he wants a traditional church wedding and reception, the whole thing - which is funny because neither of us are churchgoers and we don’t have big families."

Carmen is still imagining - and reminiscing. "My wedding was like that, very traditional evening wedding in a big church, all of our family and friends, and a huge party afterwards! It was wonderful… and expensive for our families." She blushed, the color stark against her practical green blouse. She's never told him about her husband (or ex-husband?), and Daniel is deeply curious, yet at the same time unsure whether he should ask. "You never said much about Miguel's dad," he finally said, watching carefully for her reaction.

Carmen’s answer is wistful. "I was so young, eighteen years old, and I guess I can tell you now, we were already expecting our baby. We were very much in love. He was an older man, twenty three," they both laughed at this, "and he already had a good job, working for a businessman in our city. Only after we were married did I learn what the business was about. This was a criminal gang, and their business was manufacturing and exporting drugs."

His mouth dropped open; he made a concerted effort to tamp down his shock. "What did you do?"

She sighed. "I still loved him, and he was the father of my son, so I stayed. And then, he began to change. That business changed him. He-" She paused, then shifted to a determined tone. "Divorce was not an option. I fled for the United States when Miguel was six. We were granted asylum two years later, and then I was able to send for mama. We moved from place to place for a while before settling here."

"Jesus. So you arrive in a new country with your little guy, and - seven years later? You're a registered nurse, and Miggie is excelling in school and getting his driver’s license. You must have worked your tail off."

She grinned, her eyes fierce. "I worked like hell, extra jobs and night school, and mama worked and watched Miguel. We don’t have much in the way of material things, but we have what we need, we're together and we're happy. It was worth all the hardship."

He knew a little bit about hard work, desperation, and the sacrifices you make along the way - but clearly not as much as Carmen does. "So, now, are you finding more balance? Doing more of what you want to do?"

"Oh, like dating?” Her shrug was dismissive. “I’ve dated a little, but with my shifts, and mama in the house, well, not much space for that in my life. Nothing serious ever comes of it."

He can imagine that. He went through quite a drought himself, and _he_ didn't have a child to look after, nor the same time constraints. At that moment, his phone buzzed with a text: Johnny is on his way.

"Well, I can’t think of anyone who deserves happiness more than you, in whatever form it comes," he said earnestly. "Can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer if-"

"Sure, what is it?" she asked with open curiosity.

"Do you ever worry he might come looking for you?" Images of Terry Silver, and even of Hawk, flashed through his mind. Sometimes, in his dreams, Terry returns; usually, he shows up at the dojo. Once he even had a dream that Johnny and Terry came to his bar together for drinks; in this dream, they talked conspiratorily together and stared at him menacingly, and he woke up with a shout, pouring sweat. Just the memory of that one made him blanch all over again.

She studied his face closely before answering, and he suddenly felt naked. "For a while, yes. I would have nightmares about him. I was jumpy and paranoid, always looking over my shoulder. With time, that happens less." But it still happens, she implied. "Is that something you worry about?"

He’s not sure he wanted to get into this - yet here they are. “I do,” he admitted, his fingers again finding the scar at his throat. “This wasn’t just a random attack. He was someone I knew a long time ago, and he wasn’t caught. He fled overseas. I think he’d have a hard time getting back into the country, then I think about what happens if he does. I didn’t mean to dump this on you.”

She held out her hand; he took it. “Not dumping, talking. Did I dump my story on you?”

“Of course not.” Offended she’d say such a thing, it took him a minute to recognize her point. “Ok, I hear you.”

“Now that we got that out of the way. Daniel, I hope he doesn’t come back. It gets better, but it takes time.” She released his hand, and they shared a quiet, thoughtful moment before he waved the waitress over for a second round.

“Oh, not for me,” she said - her glass is still half-full. “I still need to drive home.”

“Johnny’s on his way - hey, I hope that’s ok, if he joins us? I’m not supposed to drive for another week, so he’s my designated driver.”

“I’d love to see Johnny, you know I haven’t seen him since before you moved out? I’m sure he’s just _glowing_. How is that going, no driving for three weeks? I think I would go crazy.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s a pain, I miss the autonomy and sometimes I feel like a burden. Johnny hasn’t complained once, but he’s had to flex his office schedule a lot. I uber back and forth to work occasionally, but that’s expensive from Santa Monica. I feel like I could drive now, but the doc says the muscle needs more time to heal.”

“Listen to the doctor,” she scolded. 

“Yeah, listen to the doctor, LaRusso,” Johnny weighed in from the end of their booth before sliding in companionably next to Daniel. “Hi Carmen, it’s been too long. How are you? What’s that kid of yours doing?” 

“Oh Johnny, I’ve heard some stories about you,” she teased. “Show me that ring already.”

Daniel laughed as Johnny bashfully held out his own left hand to show a platinum band identical to his own, very much playing the part of a blushing bride-to-be as he looked over at Daniel with warm blue eyes and a flirtatious smile. “You should have seen him,” Daniel said warmly. “He got down on one knee, gazed deeply into my eyes, and said romantic things about health insurance.”

“Quiet, there was sweet shit in there too.” Johnny bumped his shoulder with a lopsided grin.

“Eventually,” Daniel agreed. “So. Miguel is about to get his driver’s license.”

“Seriously?” Johnny looked at Carmen with interest. “What’s he into these days? Is he in football, or soccer, uh, chess club, stuff like that?”

“He’s on the yearbook staff. He tried out for soccer and came close, but didn’t quite make it onto the team - he was very disappointed. Some of the guys at school have been picking on him for being a nerd. Since when is it wrong to do well in school?” Carmen said this vehemently, but her expression is concerned.

Daniel can tell Johnny is struggling to hold back his own opinion about the ‘nerdiness’ of being on the yearbook staff, giving him a warning kick under the table as he replied to Carmen. “Kids can be jerks.” If he gave Johnny a sidelong glare as he said it, could anyone really blame him? “I hope he’s not being bullied.”

“I don’t think it’s anything like that,” she said - and he wonders. Would Miggie tell her if it was?

“I have an idea,” Johnny offered. “You ought to send him to the dojo with us. He’d love it, he’d be totally into it. Daniel’s already taught him half of what he knows.”

Daniel chuffed at the jibe, but, on reflection, he realized it’s a pretty good idea. “Johnny’s right, I think he’d really get into it. It’s a good group of kids, several his age.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she said, and he knows what she’s thinking. She’d worry about the cost, and she would never accept any kind of favoritism or charity. It’s how he would react, if he were her.

“We could work something out, if he was interested.” Daniel stepped lightly on Johnny’s foot when he started to object - Daniel knows he’s about to offer it for free, something Carmen would not allow, and he’s pretty sure Johnny wouldn’t understand why. “Think about it.”

“He would love it,” she acknowledged. “He misses seeing you around, Daniel. After you came by last month, he talked about it for days.” She hesitated, glancing over at Johnny - because, at that time, Daniel had visited the South Seas apartments with an eye towards possibly moving back. She would have no idea if Johnny knew about that.

“He knows,” Daniel said gently. “We’re past that.”

Johnny looped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed tightly, nearly painfully. “We’re past that. When I almost lost him, that was it. I wasn’t about to waste any more time.” His voice uneven, he pressed his mouth to the side of Daniel’s head in a rough kiss. 

“Let’s not get sappy in front of Carmen,” Daniel chided, his breath hitching in his chest; he melted against Johnny and pressed his thigh reassuringly against his fiancé’s.

“Sorry,” Johnny said. 

“Well, if you can’t be sweet on eachother when you’re newly engaged, when can you be?” Carmen said lightly. “I think you suit each other. I’m so happy for you both.”

They looked at each other, then at Carmen, both grinning.


	2. Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At their romantic Valentine’s day dinner, Johnny and Daniel get sappy and talk about plans - past and future.

**Wednesday, February 14**

Johnny stepped out of the shower and toweled most of the water from his body - it’s 6pm, nearly completely dark outside, and he thinks about the evening ahead: they need to be out the door at 6:30 to make their 6:45 dinner reservation at Luigi’s, so he has plenty of time to get dressed. He wrapped the blue towel around his waist and opened the door between the shower and the double sink where Daniel, already showered, stands in suitpants, shirtless and clean-shaven, brushing his teeth.

He paused at the doorway to surreptitiously admire his fiancé while he's focused on the mirror. His chest and back have started to fill in again now that he's been able to start some light training, reestablishing the lean muscle tone under his smooth skin, and the little silver streaks he’s finally allowed to emerge at his temples lend him an air of solidity Johnny finds irresistible - not that he’d tell Daniel that, of course. Best of all, he’s regained most of the cockiness and swagger that Johnny found so obnoxious in high school and so endearing now. 

Daniel’s voice floated back to him, muffled by toothpaste. “Like what you see?”

Johnny laughed and stepped forward to press the full length of his body against Daniel’s back, leaning in to mouth the side of his neck. “If I tell you how much I like what I see, we’ll miss dinner,” he grinned wolfishly.

Daniel glared back, but his eyes were bright and he couldn't keep a straight face. “We’ll see about that. Hope you’re feeling adventurous.” Then he quirked that eyebrow at him in the mirror, knowing it would drive him crazy. 

Johnny gently pried the toothbrush from his fingers to lay it on the counter. “Spit, LaRusso,” he ordered, his voice pitched low and smooth.

He spit, then turned to face him with a laugh. “What the hell, Lawrence,“ he started to say until Johnny smothered his objection with a firm kiss, the taste of spearmint sharp on his tongue.

He released Daniel’s mouth after he judged he’d softened him up enough, and demanded, “What do you mean, ‘feeling adventurous’.”

Daniel looked at him with eyes that are a little unfocused, irises swallowed by pupils dilated with desire - but then his gaze sharpened mischievously and he smirked. “You’ll see,” he promised, then issued an order of his own. “Get dressed. Don’t want to be late.”

“You’re killing me,” Johnny informed him with a last glance backwards, on the way to their shared closet. Although Daniel is wearing suitpants, Johnny selected his dark jeans, a black button-up shirt, and a dark charcoal sweater, because Luigi’s is pretty casual - and, after getting dressed, he looks pretty good, the dark colors setting off his blond hair and blue eyes. Settled in to watch Daniel finish his rather-extensive pre-dinner routine, he chuckled over all the things Daniel does for special occasions; there’s the clove-scented hair gel, the sandalwood aftershave, some of Johnny’s good moisturizer; he even trimmed and buffed his nails. When he finally emerged wearing the dark-gray suitpants and a soft peacock-blue v-neck, though, Johnny decided it was worth the wait. 

Although he ached to strip that thin sweater right off of Daniel’s torso, he ran his hands over his fiancé’s shoulders and chest instead, coming to rest lightly at his trim waist. “You look-“

“Don’t say it,” Daniel warned.

“-adorable,” Johnny finished, then lurched away to avoid Daniel’s half-hearted punch at his shoulder. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” Daniel dimpled a smile at him, eyes crinkled happily, and licked his lips with a flicker of the tip of his tongue. Johnny sighed, convinced Daniel knew _exactly_ what that does to him.

…

Luigi’s parking lot was packed by the time they arrived, and Johnny was glad - again - that he had the forethought to make reservations weeks earlier, before the incident at the bar, to assure them a table. At the time he’d made the reservation, he’d intended for tonight to be the night he would propose - a very-romantic Valentine’s day dinner, a bottle of good wine, a quiet table by the window, getting down on his knees in front of God and all the other patrons to declare his intentions. 

He'd mulled over the idea for a few months; when Daniel moved in at the end of November, his determination had strengthened; by Christmas, he was certain. This was it; this man, LaRusso of all people, was the one, but there was plenty of time to assure himself Daniel felt the same, to plan just the right time and setting, to ensure Lucille and Mr. Miyagi approved. The incident, as they’d started calling it, just accelerated his timeline.

Daniel, oblivious to all of what’s going through Johnny’s mind right now, stepped out of the car and closed the door firmly behind him. Now, he peered curiously at him through the windscreen.

Johnny cleared his mind and stepped out of the car, finally, to walk together arm-in-arm into Luigi’s.

“We haven’t done much of this,” Daniel mentioned as they approached the front door of the restaurant. When Johnny looked at him questioningly, he continued, “gone out in public as a couple. I wonder…”

“...if we’ll be the only ones?” Johnny completed his thought. “I bet we won’t be. This _is_ L.A.”

“True,” Daniel agreed as they stepped through the door. Standing at the reservation stand, he remembered, “The last time we were here was before Christmas, the day ma arrived.”

“How could I forget? She was still so pissed off at me.” Johnny confirmed their reservation with the host, who immediately escorted them to the secluded corner table he’d requested weeks before. Daniel looked around with surprise and, he thinks, approval. 

“Good spot?” he asked.

“Great table,” Daniel agreed. “You must have reserved weeks ago to get _this_ table _tonight_.”

“Yeah,” he laughed ruefully, and he can’t help himself. He has to tell him. “This was where I was going to propose. All romantic and shit,” he grinned. “But then, things changed and I couldn’t wait any longer. So that’s why you didn’t get a well-prepared speech that day.” The look on Daniel’s face brings him to a stuttering halt. “What’s wrong?”

Daniel stared at him, brown eyes wide and expression soft. “You planned that weeks ago? And planned to do it here?”

Johnny stared back. "Did you think I proposed to you impulsively?”

“I didn’t know. I guessed it was a… spur of the moment thing.” His lips twitched, almost a grin, but not quite.

“You asshole,” Johnny retorted fondly. “It wasn't. Have some faith. And order us some good wine.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head, just a little, before withdrawing his hand to open the wine menu. Looking down at it, he said in a low voice, “you’re full of surprises."

Johnny took that as a compliment, whether or not it was intended as one.

Daniel ordered wine along with a smattering of appetizers and sides, and they lingered pleasantly over the exquisite food. Johnny loves cooking; he especially appreciated the skill and technique that went into the dishes, the presentation, the garnishes. Daniel’s appreciation was more visceral; for him, it’s about the taste, scents and textures. His sensual, sighing enjoyment brought to Johnny’s mind other, more private memories not at all suitable for polite company.

“So,” Daniel started after _aah_ ing over yet another oyster, “I’ve wanted to ask you something. You don’t have to answer.”

Johnny abandoned the prosciutto-wrapped date he was about to bite into with some trepidation. “Okay.”

“That day. The day you proposed. Mr. Miyagi sent me in to make tea, and while I was in there, I could see the two of you having a serious conversation out on the lawn. What was that about?”

Johnny can’t help but laugh. “You didn’t figure that one out, huh?”

Daniel was still watching him curiously, so Johnny barreled on.

“While you were… incapacitated, I spent some time with the old man on my own. We trained a little, more meditation than anything else. I needed that. And we talked about the future. What you and I talked about doing with the dojos, and what I wanted to do with you. I wanted his blessing.”

Slowly, as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly, Daniel repeated, “so, that day, you were asking for Mr. Miyagi’s blessing.”

“No, he’d already given me his blessing. He’s happy for us. That day, I told him I wasn't going to wait any longer. He thought that was pretty funny. He said something like, when it’s a lifetime, what matter a few days one way or the other.”

“I had no idea any of this was going on. You told me you’d been there a few times over that week, but… I didn’t imagine you and Mr. Miyagi having these…”

“Talking about you? He’s the closest thing you have to a father.”

Daniel finally overcame his surprise enough to smile. "Do you remember when he figured out we were a couple, that first visit? How hard he laughed? He must think we're both insane.”

Johnny grinned back. “He told me he's very proud of the man you've become. He only wished he was there for more of it.” 

Daniel abruptly sobered, tightening his jaw - but his chin trembled and his eyes dampened with sudden tears. Johnny watched him clench his eyes shut, so clearly struggling to maintain his composure. “He said that?” he whispered.

Johnny wanted to kick his own ass right about then. He should have known this would happen - he knows the history between them. He knows Daniel is emotional, reactive - he always was, even as a teenager. Quick to anger (though less so now than he used to be), the first to laugh, the first to cry, always the more demonstrative - it’s all part of what Johnny has grown to love about him. And why hadn’t the old man told Daniel this himself, anyway? This was a moment they should be having.

All he could do was make his way to Daniel’s side to kneel next to his chair. After a moment, he reached for his hands. “Pull it together, LaRusso, people are going to think you’re getting dumped on Valentine’s Day,” he chided. Couples at the tables nearest them paused to watch; somewhere behind him, someone gasped and whispered.

"We already did that part," Johnny said loudly enough for onlookers to hear; most returned to their own conversations.

Daniel choked an apologetic laugh and looked down, meeting Johnny’s eyes where he’s knelt on the floor of the restaurant. He’d mostly managed to regain his composure, but his eyes still shone with unshed tears and he clenched Johnny’s hands painfully tightly. "I'm sorry I'm getting emotional. It means a lot to me… You know how I felt about how things ended with the old man."

"Don’t apologize for that. I love you, even when you get weepy on me.”

"I love you, too," Daniel replied, still blinking away tears. "And look, you’re doing the taking-a-knee-on-Valentine's-Day thing after all."

"Shit. You’re right. I’d better do it right this time, or your ma will have my head on a pike. Daniel LaRusso, will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

He startled. "What’s this about ma?"

"Answer the question, LaRusso."

"You know my answer is 'yes', Lawrence." He grinned; despite his self-consciousness in this public setting, to Johnny, it was obvious Daniel was enjoying this.

Johnny kissed one of his hands, counting on the gesture to disguise the fact he was overcome by the moment, as silly as that was given they’d done this already. Daniel freed the other hand to trace fingertips through Johnny’s blond hair. 

When Johnny finally returned to his seat, he told Daniel, "There, tell Lucille I did it right when she calls tomorrow morning."

"Ma knows? You really covered all the bases, didn't you?"

"Except one," and here, for the first time, Johnny’s nervousness overtook him. "If we don't figure out our wedding plans soon, she's going to demand we fly out to Newark and do it there in front of all of the aunts and cousins."

Daniel shuddered. "No way. We’ll do it here. Justice of the peace, then a week on vacation somewhere nice. Private." He looked at Johnny with glowing eyes.

"Justice of the peace? Nope." Johnny's tone was resolute - Daniel’s pretty brown eyes won’t tempt him away from what he really wants. "We're wearing tuxes and having guests."

"We can wear tuxes to the courthouse."

"A church, Daniel. This is the only wedding we get."

"We're not religious. I'm agnostic at best. At _best_ , Johnny. And if you ever tell ma I said that-"

"I wouldn’t." Johnny paused to think. "Shit. We have to get creative."

Daniel narrowed his eyes at 'creative', but let it pass. "I'll tell her we'll fly her out here. When on earth did you and ma talk about this? You two call each other now? That makes me nervous."

"Oh, Lucille and I had a lot of time to talk while she was here. But enough about that. Where are you taking us tonight?"

"Where I have in mind is a place I used to manage, years ago, before I bought The Boardroom. Great classic cocktails. An excellent chef - this is a gourmet gastropub kind of place. Good music. But that's not what the place is known for. It's more known for the, ah, vibe. The entertainment."

Daniel gave him his best, wide-eyed, innocent look, but it was belied by the upturned corners of his mouth, and Johnny just knew there was something Daniel wasn’t telling him. "Sounds interesting. What’s it called?"

"Smoke." Daniel searched his eyes for any sign of recognition.

Johnny looked into the depths of his wine glass and thought; something about the name was familiar, a little tickle in his memory. Then, he remembered. "Isn't that the…"

"...yep. That’s the one. But we don't have to do any of that. The draw is the food and drink, and the people." Daniel struggled mightily to keep a straight face as Johnny cycled through several reactions. He never did have a poker face; every impulse was right there for anyone to read - his shock, trepidation, intrigue… and interest.

"You're full of surprises too, LaRusso," Johnny finally said, and wondered just what Daniel was getting him into.


	3. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel has a colorful past. Johnny knew this already, because Daniel told him about it on their first date. But seeing it first-hand is different from just hearing about it - and Johnny has no intention of _sharing_.

Daniel gave Johnny turn-by-turn directions to Smoke; Johnny had only the vaguest idea of where it was. While Daniel focused on the traffic and strategized the best route, Johnny guided the Audi where he’s told with half of his attention, the rest focused on the feel of Daniel’s firm left thigh under his right hand. He imagined how nice it would be to drive them home right now, press against Daniel in the elevator up to their front door, maneuver him onto their sofa, or maybe even cajole him out onto the balcony and push him up against the rail… Not yet, he reminded himself. Later.

“So this is a-“

“Social club,” Daniel insisted, all business now, although he’d relaxed his thigh in Johnny’s grip and leaned lightly against his upper arm while he tapped at the car’s audio display. “You’ll see.” Daniel is usually an eighties classic hits kind of guy, but tonight he selects a moody, late-90s era techno track; Johnny nods in surprised approval.

While they waited the few minutes for the valet to come for their keys, Daniel pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and popped the glove compartment, then held his hand out for Johnny’s phone. “No cameras inside,” he explained. “Easiest to lock them in the car.” Johnny handed over his Samsung with raised eyebrows; Daniel’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh man. You should see your face right now.”

“Well, it’s fucking weird,” he retorted.

“It’s a privacy thing. Listen, if you’re not comfortable with this, we can skip it.”

“No, I’m good,” Johnny insisted; he’s no quitter, if Daniel wants to do this, he’s committed to follow this thing through. “I can live without my cellphone for a couple of hours.”

Daniel glanced at him with a secret smile. “I promise, you’ll be fine. Just think of it as one of those nature shows. ‘Mating habits of the wild…’, well, whatever. Humans.”

Johnny feels the flush spread across his cheekbones, watching Daniel watching him with those dark eyes. “Okay,” he says weakly. Then, the valet arrived, and he handed over the keys. _No going back now._

Daniel will always be three inches shorter and pounds lighter than Johnny, but when they approached the front door, the guy manning the door nodded at Daniel with respect, then eyed Johnny skeptically, head to toe, making Johnny feel just a little bit smaller. 

“Good to see you again, Mr. LaRusso.”

“Thanks, Benny, it’s been a while, huh.” The guy patted Daniel reverently on the shoulder as he walked past. Johnny raised his eyebrows but made no comment.

“Here, come this way, you’ll like this,” Daniel murmured to him, his voice pitched to reach his ear underneath the music as he led him by the elbow towards a large, dimly-lit room on the right. There was no band or DJ, so this was recorded music, something with a low, slow beat; as they rounded the corner to enter the dim cavern of the room itself, he noticed a handful of round high-top tables at the center, and around the margin of the room, against the walls, a series of curved, midnight-blue velvet sofas and loveseats, spaced well apart for privacy, each with its own low serving table. At one end of the room, a pair of well-dressed bartenders manned a long bar of leather and glass. 

All tables were occupied and the bar was fairly crowded; nevertheless, one of the bartenders made eye contact and signalled, some gesture Johnny didn’t quite catch. The sea of drinkers parted immediately, allowing Daniel to easily lead them both to the bar.

Daniel ordered for them both, a dirty martini for Johnny and an old-fashioned for himself, and Johnny took that opportunity to look around. The decor was minimalist, vaguely industrial, but with touches that read to him as luxurious, like the velvet seating and the subtle glass lighting along the walls. He rested his hand on Daniel’s lower back, feeling the ridge of his spine under the soft merino, and turned back towards the bar in time to see the guy behind the bar set the second drink down.

“Mr. LaRusso, are you, uh, playing again?” the man asked, looking at both of them with interest; Johnny couldn’t imagine what he meant by that question.

“No, Max, just tourists now,” Daniel replied smoothly, relaxed against Johnny’s hand on his back. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” Max's voice was warm, familiar. “Been some years, hasn’t it? Why don’t you grab a table?”

“Oh, they’re all-“ Johnny started to point out, but then he saw a corner table had been cleared; Max nodded his head, and Daniel nodded back.

“We will,” Daniel agreed. “Send a little something over?”

“You got it.”

“You good? Table okay?” Daniel murmured into his ear. “Let’s sit.” There’s an easy authority in his voice here that Johnny hadn’t heard from him since the new year, and rarely heard Daniel direct towards him at any time during their relationship. Something about that hooked into his gut and tugged, uncomfortable and enticing at the same time; he picked up both of their drinks and followed his fiancé to the table that, despite the full house, remained open for them.

“Tell me about this,” Johnny asked as they made themselves comfortable; taking a look around, he noticed the relatively well-heeled crowd, professionally dressed for the most part and arrayed as couples and threesomes of every combination. “Everyone seems to know you here.”

Daniel gave him a look. “I told you about managing Smoke, some years back. I started as front-end manager, then I took over as the general manager, running it for the owners. They’re absentee, never here. I stayed on until I saved up enough cash to buy my own bar.” He sipped his drink and surveyed the room for a moment before turning back to Johnny with a slow smile. “Ok, what’s that look for?”

Johnny was transfixed by the whiskey sheen on his upper lip; it took a moment for him to raise his eyes up to Daniel’s. “Did you… partake?”

His fiancé quirked a corner of his mouth. “At one time, yes. Amanda and I met people here back then.”

“Huh.” Johnny dragged his eyes away from the dimple in his cheek and surveyed the rest of the room again where, for the first time, he noticed a few folks out of his ‘norm’ of experience: a woman in a tight vinyl corset; a man leading another man with a collar and leash.

“Does that bother you?”

Yeah, it bothers him, it's the last thing he wants to imagine Daniel doing. “As long as it stays in the past, no.”

Daniel looked away; his dimple disappeared and his voice sharpened. “It’s in the past. I don’t share, and I won’t stray. Johnny, that will never be us.”

Just then, as a waiter arrived with a plate of fruit and chocolate. “Thanks,” Daniel nodded to the waiter, then turned to face Johnny, looking expectantly from Johnny’s eyes to his mouth, waiting for a reaction.

Daniel had obviously chosen this time and place to show him something they’d never discussed in any detail, but he _had_ told him a little bit about that time in his life, early last year, on their first date. His and Amanda’s marriage had been faltering, and opening up the relationship had been their attempt to ‘spice things up’. They experimented with other people, couples, and through this, Daniel discovered his interest in men. At the time, Johnny had been shocked to learn about Daniel’s past; he was intimidated, and even wondered, _is Daniel really serious about us, or am I just another conquest to him?_ But, as he grew to understand Daniel, Johnny figured out this experimentation had been Amanda’s idea, because his Daniel is as possessive as he is passionate, craving permanence, connection… family. This wasn’t something Daniel had sought out on his own.

Johnny reached for Daniel’s hand. “I’m glad to hear that, because I’m a one-man kind of guy.”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” Daniel retorted, but Johnny could tell he liked the sentiment. He released Daniel’s hand from his grip and pulled him closer across the upholstered loveseat. Daniel leaned over his lap to spear a strawberry half with one of the little silver forks, dipped it in the chocolate, and offered it to Johnny, who tongued it right off the tines. The way Daniel’s dark eyes watched him, together with the sweetness in his mouth - well, it did things to him, made his heart race and his thoughts run in all kinds of interesting directions. He swallowed that down, then leaned into him for a kiss, giving Daniel the juice on his lips and tasting the whiskey and orange on Daniel’s tongue in return.

“Christ, you taste good,” he murmured into Daniel’s cheek after they broke the kiss.

After they flirted their way through the rest of the fruit, they sipped their second round and watched the crowd ebb and flow, speculating on their backstories and agendas.

“I think some guy just stood her up,” Johnny whispered, indicating a thirtyish woman who stood near the center of the room, looking lost.

Daniel took her in, especially her clothes and, Johnny was pretty sure, her shoes. “Maybe. I think she's waiting for a woman. More than one.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, two women, clearly a couple, walked up to her; she smiled and embraced them both.

“How did you know that?”

Daniel shrugged. “I have a sense for these things. And watch, they’re going straight to business, heading upstairs.”

“Straight to _what_?”

“The play rooms,” Daniel explained, as though that would mean anything to Johnny. “The upstairs, it’s all different kinds of rooms. Uh, toys, beds, benches, a room set up like a doctor’s exam room, bondage and dom-sub setups… they probably still have the room with the revolving bed, we used to call it 'going to Las Vegas'.”

Johnny hadn’t heard about any of this before and was abruptly thankful he didn’t know this place existed back in his twenties. Or thirties. Or ever, until now. “Now I get it,” he said. “And you managed this place, and, occasionally… participated.”

He nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Which, uh, rooms?”

He burst into laughter. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah, I really would.” Johnny emphasized the ‘really’.

Without answering, Daniel swallowed the rest of the drink (Johnny watched his throat work and thought about nights past) and stood, pulling Johnny to his feet. “Finish that, let’s check out the dance floor,” he ordered; Johnny complied.

Together they were in at a bottle of wine and two cocktails each, and Johnny was at that stage of drunkenness where he was floating but not spinning, warm and open but not impulsive, loose but still in control, which was why he went along with this whole dancing thing even though he _never_ dances. The room Daniel led him to was dark, populated but not crowded, and somewhere along the way Daniel had stripped off Johnny’s jacket to hand to one of the employees; without thinking about it, Johnny untucked his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, exposing blond forearms that his fiance pulled around his waist, under his sweater. Johnny startled at his forwardness in this public setting, but then he settled into the skin-to-skin contact and the feeling of Daniel pressed closely against him. 

Unlike Johnny, Daniel can dance, and he dances very well. It’s nice. _More_ than nice. 

Johnny subsumed himself into the music, turned off the conscious part of his brain and all its distractions, and for once stopped thinking about what’s happening around him, what he’s doing, whether he looks silly or strange. It was just the two of them in that moment, anonymous and unremarkable, hips notched together, Daniel’s hands on his shoulders, his face pressed to Johnny’s neck, his own hands at the small of Daniel’s back. 

Daniel bit his earlobe, startling him out of his fog; he looked over Daniel’s shoulder and spotted someone he absolutely did not want his fiancé to run into. Unfortunately, she’d also spotted the two of them, and she looked like she was heading their way.

“Hey,” he murmured, leaned in close, “take me on a tour.”

Reluctantly, Daniel pulled away. “Now?” 

“Now.” Johnny loaded the word with all the buttery promise he could muster.

After a penetrating look, Daniel wordlessly led him towards the back of the room, opposite the door they entered through; Johnny looked over his shoulder just long enough to give Amanda the nonverbal warning he needed her to read: he’s not about to let her fuck up this night for them. There’s a darkened hallway back there, then a junction with another hallway - he thought they might be passing behind the room with the bar now - and they encountered the first of a handful of rooms whose doorways were obscured not by a door, but a fabric curtain he could almost, but not quite, see through.

Just past the first doorway, Daniel paused and pulled him close again, his breath hot in his ear. “No doors,” he explained, “it’s a safety thing. Some people like to leave the curtains open. You might see some things you haven’t seen before.” His eyes darted to Johnny’s lips, then he leaned in and gently took Johnny’s upper lip between his teeth, waiting for him to open his mouth to him. They kissed, lightly, breathing each other's air for a second. 

“Yeah, ok,” was all Johnny could manage.

More slowly, quietly, they walked down the hall, hip to hip. They passed only a few more rooms, all with closed curtains, and he heard quiet laughter from one room, rhythmic wet slaps from another. Johnny flushed, the heat climbing from his chest up his neck by the time they reached a set of stairs.

The stairway was brightly lit, though the walls were midnight blue and the floors a matte, dark wood. Beneath the florid chandelier over the first landing, they found a couple close to their age, a man and a woman, and the woman seemed to recognize Daniel, giving him a familiar wave. He smiled back; Johnny felt wooden and stiff.

“Swap?” she asked Daniel, looking Johnny up and down with interest. He can’t help but notice the way the pendant on her necklace is nestled between her very round, very _showcased_ breasts. The tall, dark, attractive man she’s with, in turn, looked Daniel over appreciatively. He fought back a wave of territorial anger and schooled his face into a neutrality he definitely didn’t feel.

“No, thanks, just us,” Daniel said, kindly but firmly.

“Ah, well... I'll leave you be then. Good night,” she replied, her voice throaty and rich.

“Good night.” Daniel nodded; the other man nodded back with a leer.

Johnny held Daniel’s hand a little too firmly as they scaled the second set of stairs; when they left the stairwell, Johnny pushed Daniel into a corner and growled: “What the fuck was that?”

He opened his eyes wide, his hands palms-out at his sides against the wall in a pose of surrender, but there was also amusement dancing at the corners of his mouth. “Johnny, it’s not a big deal.“

“The hell it’s not. You’re not-“

“No, I’m not.” Daniel's initial amusement gave way to irritation. “I told you about this.”

Johnny flattened his hands over Daniel’s, palm to palm, to pin him to the wall, and glared back at close range. Finally, he gave his pelvis a little roll against Daniel’s hip. “Damn right.”

Daniel’s eyes sharpened and warmed; Johnny was sure he could feel the body heat coming off of him in waves. “Jesus, Johnny, ok,” he answered roughly. 

He peeled himself back and drew Daniel along with him, more gently now. “Ok. Tell me about this place.”

Daniel nestled himself securely against his shoulder. “Just look,” he said, “and listen.”

The first room was a large room, and the curtain was pulled back, allowing a glimpse of… machinery, maybe, reminiscent of weight machines in a gym. Johnny didn’t quite process everything he saw in that moment, only registering a brief impression of black vinyl, off-white ropes, flesh straining against restraints - then he heard a smack, and a feminine voice squealed with excited surprise. He blanched and moved along quickly; Daniel caught his reaction and barked a laugh. “Bondage stuff,” he said. “Popular room.”

The next room must be the Las Vegas room, because it had the rotating bed, heart-shaped and pink; grinding faintly as it moved on its pedestal. The walls were red, the sheets white, the pillows lacy, and the room was deserted. It also had an odd, plastic smell. 

“It’s hideous,” Johnny marveled. “I hope this wasn’t your doing.”

“Hell no. The owners wanted it. Some couples get a kick out of it. It even has magic fingers.”

“Magic _what_?”

“Never mind. You know, we could always drive to Vegas to get hitched.”

“Nope,” Johnny said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “No drive-through wedding shit for us.”

Daniel grinned and pulled him onward past the third room; again, the curtain was drawn, but whoever was inside murmured and giggled. Johnny wondered if this room is where the three women were, the ones they’d seen earlier in the evening. 

The final room at the end of the hall was a mystery; it had a window as well as a door, and Daniel stood on his toes to peer intently through the window into the half-lit room. “This one’s new,” he told Johnny, who chose that opportunity to lean against Daniel’s back, brushing his hair aside from his neck with his fingers to lightly kiss him. Daniel sighed and tilted his head to the side to give him more room to work; encouraged, Johnny pressed his hips forward just enough to feel him push back.

“Making out in the hallway is discouraged,” Daniel informed him, but it sounded like he was smiling.

Johnny took that as a hint, hummed and pushed him gently towards and through the door, into the little room. The doorway’s curtain fell closed behind them, although with the window it didn’t really provide privacy. Not that Johnny cared about that, not really, eyes locked with Daniel’s. He couldn’t resist burying both hands into that dark-chocolate hair to pull their already kiss-swollen lips together.


	4. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel asks for a night to remember; Johnny is more than happy to oblige. Meanwhile, Amanda realizes it’s time for a course correction of her own.

In the strange little windowed room, Daniel unbuttoned Johnny’s shirt as though on autopilot, as if they were in the safety of their own bedroom. When he reached the last button at the bottom, he opened up Johnny’s shirt with a flourish and pulled away from their kiss to look admiringly down at his chest.

Johnny smirked, unable to resist: “Like what you see?”

Daniel rewarded him with a throaty laugh and a pass of his fingers over Johnny’s blonde-dusted pectoral muscles, brushing his nipples on the way down to his abdomen. That made Johnny flinch; he flinched again when Daniel nudged the tips of the fingers of one hand under the waistband of his jeans. “Yeah I like what I see,” he said emphatically, dark head still bowed, eyes roving freely over Johnny’s body.

Johnny’s jeans became uncomfortably confining under Daniel’s heated interest; when Daniel unbuttoned the top of his fly and started to pull the zipper, he groaned, aching for his touch, but, here? Where anyone could walk by and see the two of them feeling each other up? Johnny stepped back just enough to put an inch between their hips and looked his lover up and down. Does he know what he’s doing? Is he drunker than Johnny thought he was? But no; the pupils of his dark eyes are blown and he’s panting through slightly-parted lips, but his gaze is steady and he’s stable on his feet, balanced. He’s fully in control of his actions. 

Still, he breathed into Daniel’s ear. “Are you sure? Anyone could walk by and see us.”

Daniel answered his question by opening Johnny’s zipper to palm his very erect length through his briefs. His fingertips found the crown, thumbed and spread the drops of precum, and Johnny’s breath hitched. “I’m yours,” Daniel said. “I don’t care who sees.”

“Okay,” Johnny whispered, then set to work with his mouth on Daniel’s neck, sucking a light bruise into his skin, knowing the effect it would have on him. And it did; Daniel sighed, nearly a sob, and ground his hips sensuously against Johnny’s still jeans-clad thighs. 

No shrinking violet, Johnny pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and looked around the minimalist room for a place to put it. There’s a platform bed, roughly full-sized, covered with a tucked velvet coverlet, a few chairs upholstered in similar material, a small bathroom discreetly tucked behind another curtain, a basket of lubricants and condoms on a little table, and a contraption Johnny recognized as a towel-warmer. Christ, they’ve thought of everything. He finally tossed his shirt at one of the chairs.

Daniel leaned against him and worked his hand the rest of the way under his briefs; Johnny shifted to move his body between Daniel and the window, then allowed himself to sink into the sensation of Daniel’s hands, both of them now. He was too turned on to object when Daniel sank to his knees and tongued him from base to leaking tip; he let his head roll back and moaned, making Daniel laugh with his mouth around his cock, and the feel of that made Johnny laugh too.

“Get these off,” Daniel removed his mouth to issue that order, then pulled his jeans down his thighs, where they pooled around his calves. Johnny toed off his shoes and stepped out of the jeans just in time for Daniel to push him backwards onto his ass on the platform bed. Nervously, he looked over his shoulder at that window - his body was still positioned to shield Daniel from view, and no one was looking through the window. Yet. 

Daniel turned Johnny’s face towards his with a hand on his cheek. “Are you good with this?”

Johnny’s legs were trembling. “Why?” he asked simply. Meaning, why here, now, like this?

“I spent a lot of time here. At first, it was just work, but later… you know what I did here, and why, and how that turned out,” Daniel’s clothed knees are steady between Johnny’s naked thighs. “I want…” He paused to look over Johnny’s shoulder towards the window, jaw working, deep in thought.

When the pause became uncomfortably long, Johnny reached for Daniel’s arm. “What do you want?”

Daniel took a deep breath. When he answered, his voice was firm and direct. “When I remember this place, I don’t want to think about any of that shit. I want to think about you.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Daniel sank to his knees and stared up at Johnny, his dark eyes depthless pools. “This is for me.”

Johnny thought about that. He thought about his own possessive reaction to the overture from that couple in the stairwell. He thought about Amanda, downstairs in this very building, the things she’d said to them at the tournament, calling out Daniel’s PTSD and his supposed drinking problem. Then he thought about how she’d dragged Daniel into this swinging bullshit in the first place. If Daniel wants to replace that old shit in his memories with something better, he can do that - he’s just the man to give them both a night they’ll never forget.

He felt the slow grin spread across his face. “Then count me in.”

Daniel gave him an answering grin, and followed it up with another searing lick. Johnny was sorely tempted to just lay back and enjoy, but he was also seized by an urge to strip Daniel the way Daniel had stripped him, so he pulled his sweater off, along with the undershirt beneath, flinging them at the same chair where his shirt had (mostly) landed. Daniel chuffed, shoved him back onto the low bed, and went to work.

Johnny struggled not to thrust up and interrupt his efforts. Daniel synchronized the movement of his mouth and hands with the music beating up through the floor, and in Johnny’s mind, everything blurred together into a surreal, all-encompassing dreamscape. Daniel encouraged the rocking of his hips with his hands, and his tongue and the suction of his mouth edged Johnny towards a final crescendo…

“Not yet.” Bereft at the sudden absence of his mouth and tongue, Johnny looked up to find Daniel rocked back on his heels, mouth wet and smirking, reaching for that basket on the table next to the bed. “I’m not done with you.”

Daniel stood up just long enough to drop his trousers to the floor. His rather impressive erection finally freed, he kneeled again, shoved Johnny’s knees up and wide, and tongued him _there_ , at his rim. This was a shocking first for Johnny, and shockingly pleasurable, more than he could have imagined. When Daniel added his fingers, Johnny couldn't help but cry out and arch against him.

“Fuck, LaRusso,” he panted. He’d assumed he’d be topping tonight, but if Daniel wanted it the other way, well, he won’t argue with this. He was still nervous about that window - but he forced it out of his mind.

“I’d love to,” Daniel answered, dimpled cheeks grinning at him over Johnny’s leaking length. He licked and swirled Johnny’s tip briefly on the way up, making him cry out _again_ , before positioning himself between Johnny’s thighs and squeezing a dollop of lubricant into his hand. 

“What are you waiting for, an invitation?” Johnny goaded.

Daniel laughed down at him, then he nudged his right knee under Johnny’s ass, leaving his left foot on the floor for stability and leverage. He took his handful of lube and used it on both of them, then rubbed his length against Johnny’s, the deep mock thrust eliciting a moan from them both. “Is that what you want?” he leaned over to grunt into Johnny’s ear. “Like that?”

“Yeah,” Johnny moans.

He did it again. “Tell me what you want.”

Shocked Daniel would use his own tricks against him like this, Johnny seized his dark hair roughly in both hands and forced him down, Daniel's ear to his mouth. “Okay, jackass. I want you inside me, right fucking now.”

Daniel was already in position; in lieu of any reply, he pushed in slowly and firmly, forcing his way through the resistance of Johnny’s body centimeter by centimeter. Johnny’s hands spasmed open, releasing Daniel’s hair, which allowed Daniel to raise himself to his elbows planted on either side of Johnny’s head. Now it was Daniel’s turn to grasp Johnny’s scalp by the roots, holding him firmly in place on the bed; Johnny looked up to find Daniel staring down at him, biting his lower lip, eyes soft.

“Good?” Daniel finally focused on him enough to whisper.

“Fuck. Yes.” Johnny breathed into the stretch and the pressure, and forced himself to open up into it, to give in. His legs trembled as he hooked one calf behind Daniel’s hips and clinched him tighter, forcing him deeper. Daniel groaned, closed his eyes and lowered his head, his cheek to Johnny’s… then he started to move, putting a little roll into the motion of his hips, a slow, rotary grind that brought wet, obscene sounds to his ears and throbbing pressure against that sensitive spot deep inside. His hair brushed against Johnny’s face and neck, and something about the tenderness of this made his eyes swim with tears - he had no idea he’d react this way, crying during sex was LaRusso’s thing, never his. He squeezed his eyes closed, holding on to Daniel’s shoulders for dear life.

“Baby, let me see you,” Daniel finally coaxed, murmuring in his ear.

Johnny opened his eyes, and Daniel rewarded him for it, moving one slicked palm between them to Johnny’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“Daniel, please… I can’t…”

“You’re so close,” Daniel murmured; Johnny agreed with a shaky nod. “I want to ride you now. I want you inside me.”

“Oh, fuck,” Johnny moaned; he moaned again when Daniel pulled out, leaving him suddenly empty. He struggled to a seated position, knees bent to press his thighs against Daniel’s lower back. Daniel had already straddled Johnny’s waist, weight on his knees, and positioned himself over Johnny’s slick, turgid length. Rapt, Johnny grasped Daniel’s flanks with both hands and groaned as Daniel inched himself down onto and around his cock. He tried to remember the last time he’d been this hard - maybe that one morning Daniel had ridden him facing the other way; that was around the new year, which reminded him of something… _shit_.

“Your knee, baby,” he says, one large hand placed carefully on Daniel’s left knee. “Is it okay?”

Distracted from the urgent business of impaling himself on Johnny’s dick, Daniel froze in place, stared at him, and laughed. Between the joy on Daniel’s face and the spasming around him that accompanied the laughter, Johnny can only twitch and wince. “Come on, seriously,” he demanded breathlessly.

“Johnny, I’m good. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Tell me again,” Johnny suggested. “Not sure I heard you the first time.”

Daniel wedged himself the rest of the way down onto Johnny. Laughing and gasping, he struggled to relax around his girth until he finally reached a point where he could begin to move. “Fuck - okay, I love you,” he moaned, his forehead tipped against Johnny’s, lips parted and wet.

“I believe you now,” Johnny gasped; Daniel’s explosive laugh was accompanied by another tight clench, which made Johnny yelp again: “Stop that!” They both snort helplessly, holding on to each other.

“Fuck it,” Johnny finally said, seized Daniel’s hips hard enough to bruise, and established a punishing cadence, fucking up into him with hard, deep thrusts. Daniel met each stroke with abandon until they both cried out with every wet slap, their sweat-slicked bodies sliding against each other until neither of them could figure out where one ended and the other began. When they came, their orgasms were explosive, and so close together as to be indistinguishable; afterwards, both were spent, so they stayed right where they were, joined and sticky.

Johnny was the first to move, drawing his fingertips lightly along the meat of Daniel’s thighs. Leaned back against Johnny’s knees, Daniel arched slowly and met Johnny’s gaze with drowsy brown eyes.

“Jesus,” Daniel finally exhaled.

“How was that?” Johnny asked curiously, now tracing Daniel’s chest with his hands. For the first time since the incident, Daniel allowed him to do it without self-consciousness or embarrassment.

“You are so fucking good.” Daniel was in no apparent hurry to break the spell they’d woven around themselves in this strange little room; neither was Johnny. Soon enough, it would be time to clean up in the little bathroom, put their clothes back on, stumble into an uber and find their way home… but not yet.

...

As soon as she spotted them on the dance floor, Amanda understood her mistake; at the tournament, when the big blond guy, Daniel’s karate co-coach, told her he and Daniel were engaged, she’d assumed they were having her on, fucking around with her, another one of Daniel's stupid jokes. It had embarrassed her and pissed her off - but here they were, the two of them, clearly together. Happily, obviously so.

She looked over at her husband where he sat talking with the couple they’d come here to meet. She (and Daniel) met Anoush right here, at Smoke, ten years prior; within a year she’d divorced Daniel and married Anoush, and she found him as handsome tonight as she did when they’d first met.

A lot had happened since then. She and Anoush had started their luxury auto dealership their first year together, followed by another, and another, eventually becoming the largest dealer group in the valley, run by the best sales team in the valley - the two of them. They’d had Samantha, their first baby girl, very quickly too - no time to spare given her age and the years she’d already wasted in her first marriage - followed two years later by their son David. Both pregnancies were difficult; this, along with the challenges of running a growing business while taking care of two small children, had taken a toll on their relationship, and now their home was a place of icy silence broken by screaming matches about the kids, their schedules, the bills… Amanda had everything she'd ever wanted, but it felt like a nightmare. 

And here they were, spending (wasting) their first date night out in months at Smoke, meeting a pair of strangers. Anoush had suggested it because they had so much fun here, back in the day - but hadn’t the fun really been the glow of their infatuation with each other, their limerence? She’d thought it was about them falling in love, not about the place, or the act.

Is Anoush about to do to her what she’d inflicted on Daniel back then? Dissolution, being left? She knew Anoush wasn’t any happier with the relationship than she was. Was he here looking for something - someone - different?

> _Nothing about this feels right_ , Daniel protested a decade ago. _How does screwing other people fix anything? I don’t want to do this._

She set her misgivings aside. If Anoush was unhappy, making a scene now would just bring the situation to a head all the more quickly. Go along with it, act the carefree playmate, show him how much fun she could still be, and it might buy her time, give her a chance to save it. So they made small talk with the other couple, had a few drinks to loosen up, and finally agreed to move upstairs to _get to know each other better_ , as Anoush had suggested. Her skin crawled with uncertainty.

Their walk through the hallways, past all of the occupied rooms downstairs and up the stairwell, took an eternity; she held Anoush’s hand in her own and tried to take comfort in his touch. They passed a handful of occupied rooms upstairs before Anoush stopped at the room with the rotating bed. “Hey, this one’s open,” he pointed out to her and the other couple, beaming. “Do we need two rooms? Are we swapping or together?”

The male half of the other couple shrugged and looked uncomfortably at his mate, who logically pointed out, “This might be the only room open.”

> _I didn’t ask for this! I wanted a marriage with just two people in it, a family, a life with you._ Daniel was drunk; he often was back then, red-faced, enraged. _You picked the guy off an app, you brought him into our bed, and now you’re shaming me for having a little fun? It’s fucked up._

Reluctantly, Amanda released Anoush’s hand and walked down the hall to the last room; unusually, this one had a window - so, a room for exhibitionists, voyeurs, or both. She peered through the window, gasped, lurched back and turned to stare at Anoush.

“What?” he mouthed at her.

“It’s taken,” she whispered, holding her finger to her lips, which was a little silly because the two men in this room wouldn’t hear a mariachi band in the hallway.

Drawn back by prurient curiosity, she tiptoed to peer through the window a second time. She couldn’t quite decipher who was doing what to whom - John’s body mercifully blocked the details from view - but the passion and the affection were unmistakable. She heard laughing, and gasping; she saw Daniel’s flushed skin, and how he was looking at John. The way they both grasped for each other, as though neither of them could get close enough to the other.

She remembered feeling that way with Anoush.

> _You’re in love with him now? That’s not how this was supposed to work._ They were both crying. _We met him together. Jesus, Amanda, that makes it worse._

She forced her attention away from her ex and his new fiancé - isn’t that the damnedest thing, Daniel getting serious with a man - and looked back down the hall to Anoush, still standing at the doorway of that atrocious pink-and-red room. She still loved Anoush, that’s the problem. Even after the fighting, the freeze-outs, the avoidance, she could still look at him and remember their early passion, their partnership, his drive and ambition, his infectious laugh, the sense of humor that drew people to him like flies to honey. When they work together, they’re a great team.

At that moment, she made up her mind - she’s putting a stop to this, and they’re going to rebuild their marriage the way they built it the first time, the same way they built their business: together.

“Sweetheart,” she called; he looked surprised, which reminded her she hadn’t called him anything _nice_ in a while. “Let them have the room. Let’s go home and talk about this.”

He softened and approached her. “I thought you wanted this,” he said.

“I want you,” she answered. “I’m sorry it hasn’t felt that way lately. Can we work on that?”

He embraced her; relieved, she hugged him back. “Okay, let’s go home,” he agreed.


End file.
